


Taking Pride in One's Work

by odiko_ptino



Series: Featured Character: Hermes [1]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Gen, pranks through the ages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 19:11:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17028378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odiko_ptino/pseuds/odiko_ptino
Summary: No one appreciates Hermes' hard work!





	Taking Pride in One's Work

The gods all have their domains.

Zeus manages and directs intricate powerful weather systems around the world, which directly or indirectly influences the lives and livelihood of every mortal.

Hephaestus and Athena split the tasks of craftsmanship and inventiveness, allowing mortals to change their world to (usually) try to make it better.

Dionysus has a lot of plates in the air: he’s the god of joy and parties, wine, nonstandard gender roles, madness…. Probably a few others.

Hermes keeps busy too - he’s in charge of commerce, travel, language, luck, athletes, herds and flocks; he’s a guide of the dead and dabbles in work with Hypnos for sleeping humans, in addition to being the messenger god for all of Olympus.

Oh, and he’s the trickster god as well.

And like any other god, Hermes takes pride in his work, and he puts a lot of effort into doing his job to the best of his ability.  Even –  _especially_  – his cosmic responsibility to prank people.

He complains about this once, at a council meeting.  He puts a petition to Zeus himself; that the gods do not appreciate his work, and it makes him feel unappreciated and sad.

Some use the opportunity to scoff at poor hard-working Hermes, calling him hurtful names like ‘tricky little shit’ or ‘sneaky asshole’.  The smarter ones glance around, warily, wondering if this, in fact, a set-up for another prank.

They’re correct, of course, and it takes them all an awfully long time to get the dish soap out of their hair and clothes.

———

Apollo was the first ever person he pranked and he still has fond memories of the day (of course, Hermes swore an oath before Zeus that he wouldn’t mess with Apollo’s cows anymore, and one doesn’t break oaths sworn before Zeus.  Never again will Apollo’s cows have reason to fear Hermes).  

One could say (correctly) that Hermes was literally born as an expert in pranking people, as he demonstrated by out-witting circles around Apollo; and yet, there was a lot to be learned from the experience.  Namely, that people will forgive you pretty much anything if you’re cute and cheerful enough!

But also, that if you want to stay friends with someone afterwards, the damage can’t be permanent. The status quo needs to be restored. Apollo got his dumb cows back, in the end, and Hermes played it safe by restoring his ego back to its original state by gifting him the lyre, as Apollo had the finest voice.  He keeps these truths in his heart even today: Hermes is universally loved, even though he’s a mischievous little shit, and he values that.

So, his pranks are mostly harmless, but still tailored to the recipient.

As his best friend, Apollo has been on the receiving end of many tricks over the centuries, but he does have a recurring theme.  A way that Apollo can wake up some mornings and know, instantly, that his dear friend Hermes has been thinking of him.

And everyone in Olympus knows it, too, when Apollo storms into the halls looking for Hermes, and he’s wearing a tunic printed with the words ‘I <3 Hermes’, or ‘My Evil Twin is Cuter’ or maybe just a fuzzy cow costume.  He has little choice in the matter when Hermes has stolen all his clothes and left only his hilarious options behind.

It had been a genuinely magical coincidence that, shortly after the fuzzy cow costume incident happened… the Pasiphae Incident happened.  Apollo was furious, and unfortunately, no one in Olympus believed his protestations of innocence (though they did share in the jokes at Apollo’s expense).

The Moirae must have been laughing their asses off over that one.  

——–

The thing is, Hermes  _crafts_  pranks.  He’s an artisan, as he’s often explained: he takes raw material (godly flaws and the surrounding environment), and shapes them until he has created a situation of beauty and awe.  

“Tell me how that’s any different from what you do!” he’s protested to an unimpressed Hephaestus and Athena.

Athena’s laughably easy to prank.  She really should be the goddess of wisdom.  Intelligence, unquestionably!  She’s brilliant!  But she should be able to spot the telltale signs by now.

He had spent a long time working on one in particular – crafting it, if you will – where, tapping into another skillset as the god of language, he began planting little snippets and clues of a heretofore ‘lost’ language, of an ancient nation of people and their gods from faraway lands.  

Athena ate it all up, excitedly bringing reference materials, cross-checking them, working far into the night, pencil scribbling furiously.  

She proudly presents her findings before Zeus’ court at long last, having determined that she’s translated an ancient poem, clearly dedicated to the culture’s equivalent to Aphrodite, ‘Rɪk,’ and addressed to an unnamed lover.  Everyone’s curious to hear it; a romantic poem, read aloud by Athena?

“The lines read thus (ahem):  [‘Love is no stranger to the two of us.  We are both familiar with the rules. I feel a full commitment is best, and you would not receive such an offer from any other suitor.  I only wish to tell you how I feel about this; I must make you understand. I will never give up on you, I will never disappoint you, I will never go astray and leave you desolate…](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DdQw4w9WgXcQ&t=OTAwMDZlMjdkN2U2Mzk0M2VkY2M5MjM1MWIzODg0N2Y1ODY0NTQyYSxoVEEzN1JCRA%3D%3D&b=t%3AGnmdICjDuK7R3w3mWc60SA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fodiko-ptino.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F169080936337%2Ftaking-pride-in-ones-work&m=1)”

“Oh, fuck,” Apollo, god of poetry, is the first to figure it out.

Athena has the privilege of being the first to succumb to this trap; but she isn’t the last.

——————–

None of the gods can afford to be purists, as far as their craft goes – they need to stay relevant. It’s a bit of a chicken-versus-egg situation as far as whether they or the mortals are the ones pushing the envelope, but they’re constantly doing it.  

Hermes has never needed modern technology to be a little shit – his reputation was cemented slightly before the dawn of humanity, and as he’s happy to explain to anyone, he can make comic gold out of anything and nothing.  And like anyone else, his horizons have been expanded by the new tools that have been created by gods and mortals.

For example, a simple but effective move: inserting little musical buttons into the soles of Hades’ sandals, making a musical tune play everywhere he walks.  Hades, who absorbs new technology at a glacial pace, takes forever to figure it out.

With Artemis, he manages to swipe her phone for ten minutes, unnoticed, and busily changes as many autocorrects and shortcuts to change to humorous phrases of Hermes’ invention. She’s surprised to find herself admitting to Apollo that he is the cuter twin; announcing embarrassing secrets to her nymphs in group chats (some that might even be true!); and finishing any sentence that includes the word ‘Hermes’ with ‘handsome and clever scamp that I admire more than anyone else in the world; I wish I could be half as cool as he is.’

The cell phone, specifically, is an amazing invention and was the thing that finally managed to help him to prank Dionysus.  

Dionysus had been a challenge for centuries, because how do you prank a guy for whom dignity means nothing? He’d used a whoopee cushion on him once; Dio had only laughed it off and was content to let the world think it was his own body that had produced the sound.  

Hermes had thought for sure he had a winning idea when he’d waited till Dio was passed out, then carefully moved him to the oddest place he can think of (backstage at a pizza restaurant that features animatronic singing animals); it doesn’t really count if Dio routinely ends up in weirder places on his own.

It’s when he has access to cell phones that he finally realizes he needs to reverse the trope with Dionysus, and uses the god’s phone to text a message to Persephone and Hades, ‘owning up’ to the musical sandals and offering to do one week of boring paperwork duty to make up for it, so they can go on a romantic trip.  

The sour face he receives from Dionysus when he realizes what he’s been roped into is priceless.

———–

Like any other craftsman, Hermes has a process in place for experiments – for trial sessions of certain complex pranks.  Some don’t need it; there’s nothing very complicated about stealing Apollo’s clothes and replacing the fabulous garments with something ridiculous.

And sometimes, there’s no use in experimenting.  Only Athena would have dedicated that much time to researching a dead language, while also lacking any awareness of pop culture references; so for her prank to get off the ground, Hermes had to simply set it in place and hope it all went smoothly.  

But if anyone cared to ask, out of appreciation for his craft, Hermes could have told them that he often tests his ideas with care beforehand.

Aphrodite once expressed exasperation and admiration at once for his prank of her – every mirror in her chambers (and a lot of other mirrors she might go to as back-up) had all been switched with trick mirrors.  They warp her perfect form to look tall as a giant or tiny as an elf; some have been rigged to make her look as though she has a beard; others give the impression of satyr’s horns.

“Every single mirror in my vicinity?!  I really don’t know how you do it,” she says to Hermes later, in (mostly) good humor, as she’s threatening to sic Ares on him if he doesn’t fix her mirrors.  “But you have really perfected being a pain in the ass.”

Hermes bows low.  “You flatter me, madam.  But of course, I’ve had a great deal of practice.”

“Practice at being a pain in the ass?  Yeah, I can see that.”

“Well, yes, but specifically, I practiced switching mirrors and rigging them… you know nearly everything I try, I test it out first!”

“You… test them out? All your tricks?”

“On Ares, yeah.”

There’s a moment where Aphrodite considers this – the whoopee cushions, the stupid clothes, the endless centuries of pranks involving glue and feathers and gross food.  She gives Hermes a stern look; he raises both hands in self-defense.  

“I make it up to him afterwards!  C’mon, you know I do!”

She finally laughs, a sound like bells or a wind chime tinkling gently.  “I see.  Poor Ares. Well, if he’s the test dummy for all your tricks, then that’s all the more motivation for him to kick your butt if you don’t fix these mirrors for me!”

————-

‘Harmless’ is the key. He has to keep people loving and trusting him; not only for the purpose of them continuing to fall for his tricks, but also for the simple fact that he loves his family and doesn’t want to hurt them. They hurt themselves enough.

When he pranks Hephaestus, therefore, he goes gentle.  Hephaestus is a sensitive soul and has experienced at least as much rejection as his brother; though he’s not as easy to cheer up again afterward.

So when he turns his sights to Hephaestus, a little while after his dramatic return to Olympus, Hermes doesn’t tamper with any equipment, and certainly doesn’t play off of any of the crippled god’s flaws.  He only fills the entire forge with balls and balloons and plush animals, in the course of one busy night.  The entire forge is filled with them, waist-deep (knee-deep for one of the cyclopes that assist him).  

Is Hephaestus inconvenienced?  Certainly. But the look on his face is just surprise and then amusement as he wades through and tries to figure out what the hell to do with all of this.  

Hermes is pleased.   _See?_  He thinks at Hephaestus _.  I made it into your sanctuary, your personal space, and nothing terrible happened.  You’ll be fine, buddy._

Not that this kindness is enough to compel him to offer to help clean up, of course.

————–

He occasionally tries to be more efficient with his pranks, by getting more than one victim at once. He determines early on that these attempts will be limited, since he adamantly believes that pranks need to be personalized to be effective.  But there are times when a twofer just feels right.

Helios and Demeter are fairly good friends – agriculture and the sun tend to work together, and their friendship deepened after Helios supported Demeter when she was grieving the loss of her daughter.

In these lighter times, they often razz each other about their snacking choices.  Helios is a bit of a junk food addict; Demeter is one of the crunchy health food nuts.  

It’s a simple matter to switch their snacks one day – all day long, he can hear Helios bitching in his chariot up above about “This carrot and celery shit, c’mon, Demeter, I’m stuck up here for hours!!”  Meanwhile, Demeter is trying to choke down some kind of crispy, salty bastardization of her beloved corn and preparing one hell of a lecture to Helios for allowing this travesty to enter his body.  It’s so perfectly tailored to both of them, that it doesn’t occur to either one that Hermes is behind it.  

Inspired by this success, he tries to hit higher.

Every so often, Queen Hera goes on outings with her sister Demeter, and sometimes Hestia.  Hermes waits for these occasions, when the Queen will be safely removed from Zeus’ bed, before he gifts both Zeus and his companion Ganymede with a gift of[ sugar-free Haribo candies](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.buzzfeed.com%2Fmichaelrusch%2Fharibo-gummy-bear-reviews-on-amazon-are-the-most-insane-thin%3Futm_term%3D.nllpYOZBea%23.uxW3JnL9Yb&t=MTM4MGVmM2ExNTkxZTA1ZGY4ZDI0NGEwNjU0YTZmODk4MjYwNzAxNixoVEEzN1JCRA%3D%3D&b=t%3AGnmdICjDuK7R3w3mWc60SA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fodiko-ptino.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F169080936337%2Ftaking-pride-in-ones-work&m=1).  

Hermes has the sense not to be downwind of their chambers that evening, but he imagines that even upwind, he can hear the resulting chaos.  

Zeus tries to be angry with him the next day but he’s still laughing about it so Hermes thinks he’s safe. Ganymede also pretends to be mad until Hermes placates him with a  _real_  gift of his favorite honey chocolates; at which point Gany finally divulges the sordid and hilarious details of their adventures in gastrointestinal distress.

——————–

Of course, many people have tried to strike back at Hermes over the years, but they lack his subtlety – Hermes can see them coming from miles away.  He allows the occasional victory, if he thinks it’s something his reputation can withstand, because he doesn’t want to discourage them from trying.

Only once, was he taken completely by surprise, and he hasn’t ever been able to recover fully.

He’s sitting around out in the courtyard, actually minding his own business for once, fooling around with his lyre, when Poseidon approaches him.

“I’ll give you credit, that was pretty good.”

At first, Hermes thinks the Lord of the Sea is referring to the pointless little melody he’s been plucking out on his lyre, and grins winningly.  “Thank you, Lord Uncle; I take great pride in my skill!”

“I’m sure you do,” Poseidon says dryly.  It’s hard to read Poseidon’s mood, but Hermes  _thinks_  he looks like he’s feeling jovial today.  “And as far as your tricks go, it was a good one.  I have no idea how you managed to get so many in there.”

…Huh?  

“The ones inside the commode were particularly well-chosen.  Droll and creepy all at once.  So, credit where credit is due, and I applaud your efforts.  But I expect them all to be gone by the end of the day. Prioritize the ones in the commode.”

He leaves without bothering to hear Hermes’ reply.

Hermes goes to Poseidon’s palace without complaint; he  _has_  to see what the hell is going on.  What he sees there is just as bewildering: Poseidon’s palaces is covered in photos of Hermes.  They’re everywhere.  Pictures of him coat the pillars, the ceilings, parts of the floor… in the commode, there are photos of him looking ‘judgy’ or pointing and laughing at the viewer.

One huge photo is on the ceiling above Poseidon’s bed: a picture of Hermes blowing a kiss.

It’s brilliant.  It’s perfect.  But…. He had nothing to do with it.

The mystery cuts him up for days.  Who could have done this?  Who could have set him up so flawlessly?  He has no beginnings of a notion about who planned this out.  He feels like he can rule out a few people – Ares has no guile; Athena’s too mature; Ganymede’s too kind…

The main thing is, everyone has a motive, but everyone has an alibi, and no one could have sneaked all these photos to Poseidon’s underwater palace and installed them without Poseidon noticing.  

He might have gone the rest of eternity never figuring it out, until one winter day when Demeter asks Hestia to say hello to Persephone for her.  

It’s a common enough occurrence – Demeter still misses her daughter during those six months when she’s away, and usually Hermes is the one to bring the little notes or handpacked lunches.  But sometimes Hestia is asked, because…

“ _You_ ,” he hisses at Hestia when they’re alone later.  “You have  _a hearth in every home_.”

Her eyes crinkle warmly at him.  “I do, indeed.  I take pride in it.”

“Even in Poseidon’s palace!”

She takes a languid sip of hot cocoa.  “Even there.”

“You sneaked all those photos in and put them up!  Even the ones in the commode!”  

“No giant is too mighty to topple,” Hestia says, mildly.  She’s quoting Zeus’ words as they’d faced Typhon at the end of the Gigantomachy.  

“You… you set me up,” he whispers.  “You  _played_  me!   _Me_!  Hermes the Trickster!”

She blows him a kiss; the exact pose of the photo above Poseidon’s bed.  “And no one will ever believe you.”

Hermes can’t decide if he should be outraged or impressed.  His happy-go-lucky nature eventually leads him to have to admit that it was a stunning defeat.  He accepts her consolation prize of a mug of hot cocoa and a pat on the head with a good-natured slump of his shoulders.  

He can’t even prank her back; she’s the sweet one, the pure one, no one can ever target her without the wrath of all Olympus descending upon him.

Every so often thereafter, she blows him a kiss with a wink, which makes his eye twitch.  Hestia… is the sneakiest shit of them all.

And no one will ever believe it.

———-

For a long time, only three individuals were off-limits.  In Hestia’s case, it was because Hermes had thought her too pure and sacred to prank.  Now, even though she clearly fucking deserves it because she’s the  _worst_ , he still can’t touch her because everyone else thinks she’s the sweetest.  

The other two are off-limits for the opposite reason: their wrath is fearsome.  

Eros is the only other one in Olympus who can possibly contest him in terms of Prankster King. By unspoken agreement, they don’t target each other – the fallout from a war between them might be enough to topple Olympus.  

The other off-limits person is Queen Hera.  

Her temper is notorious, and unfortunately, she and Hermes got off on the wrong foot over Io and Argus. Things never improved much, for years, as Hermes served as her foil on the many occasions when Zeus required him to bail out one of his lovers or their illicit offspring.  Hermes doesn’t object to these tasks – he feels that Hera’s wrath is misplaced and he’d rather see the mortals escape her.  

But it bothers him that this one relationship should be so imbalanced.  There is no one else in Olympus with whom he has such chilly relations. And even later, when Zeus and Hera have finally worked out an accord on his playboy ways and her jealous reactions – Hermes is still stumped how he can make friends with her.

He takes his chances, the best way he knows how.

Once a year, Queen Hera goes back to Kanathos and becomes a maiden once again.  Leading up to her 3000-year anniversary with Zeus, she decides to take a full week to refresh herself and consider ways to make their anniversary night special.

In the same vein, Zeus is preparing as well – he is showing incredible restraint and declining to even have sex with Ganymede for that week leading up to her return.  The other gods try to encourage his willpower by distracting him with card games and alcohol.

It really is an impressive feat – for anyone, but especially those two.  They may be the two most willful gods in existence and their marriage is often fraught.  They could have left at any time – Hera certainly has grounds for divorce a thousand times over; and Zeus could leave by way of being king of the gods and not wanting to put up with the stress anymore.  

But in spite of their myriad flaws, they do truly love each other and have made their marriage work for a long time.

Hermes decides to celebrate by gift-wrapping every single thing in her apartment within the palace.

He has a week, which is barely enough time, but when she returns, she finds every chair, every brush, every book, every individual piece of jewelry gift-wrapped, every sheet upon the bed gift-wrapped.  In deference to her position, the paper is peacock-printed, and every single item has a ‘Happy Anniversary!’ tag on it.

It’s a risk, and Hermes is prepared to defend himself with a speech about ‘the spirit of celebration took me over!’ when he’s summoned to her chambers; but he’s surprised to be greeted with a wide grin instead, as she surveys the damage.

“Hermes, you really are awful!  I thought you’d never come after me!  I always felt quite left out!” she’s saying, as she inspects a bowl of fruit with each individual grape gift-wrapped while still left on the vine.

He hadn’t realized he had so much influence – or that any god would actually look forward to his pranks. He guesses it must be the inclusion that matters.  Looking at it that way, Hermes feels a little bad for leaving her out.  

He bows low.  “I was only waiting for the right opportunity, my Queen.”  

She looks at him, eyes shining in a way he’s not sure he’s ever seen before.  The week as a maiden has clearly lightened her heart.  Hermes finds himself hoping she has fun tonight, with Zeus.

“It’s certainly memorable, you little shit,” she says, happily.

————

With all other barriers broken, and realizing at last the real value of his craft, Hermes promptly sets up Eros to be dumped with a bucket of sticky glitter.  The retaliation and subsequent counter-retaliations are epic as expected, and are expected to last for centuries – though even his defeats by Eros’ hand still don’t sting like the humiliation of Hestia’s strike.

—————-

And so, when Apollo and Helios are fully entrenched in Icarus’ life once again, and Hermes himself (as well as sundry other curious gods) begin inserting themselves in the mortal’s day, it’s with a sense of duty and pride that Hermes fills Icarus’ showerhead with bright purple powdered juice mix.  

“Welcome to the gang, kiddo,” he thinks.


End file.
